Ashes
by theatre-gypsy
Summary: Unknowingly, she stepped into the inferno. Now he's angry and her simple life will spiral out of control. And with everyone dancing so close to the flames, someone's bound to get burned.


Gotham's air was cool, and the stench of smog and dirty people hung heavy. All was relatively calm, despite the bumping and bruising of bodies as people hurried to and fro. Cars drove by, wallets got stolen, and people yelled. Small gift shops and antique stores filled with cheap baubles occupied the bottom levels of the apartments that lined the busy street. It was all very routine, and people minded their own business.

And because everyone was minding their own business, the crash that accompanied a fist punching through a window went unnoticed.

So did the shady figure that crawled out of the window leading from the decaying building into an alley.

The figure fell flat on its back, grinding pieces of shattered glass into the asphalt. When it stood, it let out a nervous giggle, checked its watch, and nonchalantly left the alley to cross the street, shaking off glass dust with each step.

For a moment or two all returned to normal, and the shards from the window caught a rare ray of sunlight.

Then the normality was shattered as an explosion engulfed the decrepit structure.

Flames and debris were catapulted in every direction, eating up any fuel it could find and shattering windows. Chaos ensued as the fire burnt quickly through the dry and dead wood. A pillar of black smoke curled into the bleary grey sky, while brick cracked and toppled. People went running into the streets, causing cars to come to a screeching halt. Shops and drug deals were abandoned.

A scrawny man leaned against the brick at the mouth of an alley, watching the blaze across the street. Those still in sight had their heads covered with their arms, tensing for another explosion. An air of panic hovered over the area.

He moved forward to get a better look.

But in the flurry of movement, the man noticed a woman to his left. She was simply sitting on a stoop with her elbows on her knees.

He moved towards her and pressed himself closer to the brick wall. His blue eyes saw that she was staring at the fire in awe. Her dark hair was up in a casual bun, and if the blue eyes looked closely, they could see the remnants of broken glass on the back of her light blue hoodie. The young woman's right hand was bleeding and she was resting her head in her left.

She was the obviously the one who set the explosives.

But _why_? She was most likely a pyromaniac, and any other man would have left it at that. But this man _needed_ to know why. His curious nature could not and _would not_ be ignored.

And besides, he needed to test out that new formula of his…

The blaring of sirens grew louder, and the man made his way back into the alley. He glanced over his shoulder at the woman, but she was already gone from her spot and was walking towards the sirens, a bit of panic in her hurried step.

_Smart_, he thought, _Very smart._

Yes, he was going to have to see this woman again.

And with a silent promise to her, the man, skinny as a scarecrow, melted back into the shadows.

**-:-**

Jim Gordon sighed and took another sip of his now cold coffee. This was the third explosion this week, and it wasn't helping his always frazzled nerves. The Joker had been out of Arkham for a month now. There had been nothing, absolutely nothing, that suggested he was planning another reign of terror until this past Monday.

When they got the call, all Jim had heard was "explosion near Gotham General" and the entire force was suited up and out the door in less than two minutes.

Now it was Friday, and no one had been killed yet. Jim desperately hoped that that didn't change.

A man appeared at his side, bringing him back to the present. Adams, his name was. Just a rookie. Gordon glanced at him before setting his gaze back to the space where the building once stood, "What's the damage?"

Adams looked at the papers in his hand, "From what the fire guys can tell, no one was in the building when the bomb went off. A couple of scraped knees and bruises. One lady got hit by a car and broke her leg."

Gordon relaxed a little. All of the explosions were purposely set in abandoned buildings. This wasn't the work of the clown.

He watched as the firemen tried to save the apartments around the smoldering remains. At least there wasn't another killer on the loose. Gotham was still sore from the beating the Joker had given them eight months before, the last thing the people needed was someone else threatening their lives.

Adams waved his hand in front of Gordon's face, "Commish? Commish? The marshal wants to see you."

He waved off the rookie, "I'll get to it."

Gordon looked down at his cold coffee one last time before dumping it in the garbage.

**-:-**

**A/N: And here it is. The beginning. Writing beginnings is always a little awkward for me, so if you catch something off about it, don't be afraid to review. In fact, review even if you don't find anything wrong with it. And please remember, I'm relatively new to writing, so if you have suggestions or advice, telling me would be lovely. Oh, and this takes place about eight months after **_**The Dark Knight**_**. So it's March 2009, for you picky timeline people.**


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